Coordinated Love - Holmes Style
by Rainie Skyes
Summary: What happens when a self proclaimed 'high functioning sociopath' finds himself in love? Good question. Welcome to the sequel to Coordinates, and it's highly recommended that you read that fic prior to this one. My goal is to keep Sherlock in character. Seriously. I'm not kidding. This fic may contain some fluff from time to time, but no slash. Sherlock and Lilly (OC), aka Lillock.
1. Manners and Advice

A/N: Welcome to the continuing saga of Sherlock and Lilly. This story is a sequel to **_Coordinates_**, my story of an original mystery case about the abduction of Lady Lillian Fairfax, which Sherlock solves and which introduces him to Lilly. If you haven't read Coordinates, I recommend that you do so, as if not, this one may be confusing. Not to mention it's a pretty good fic, so you should read it anyway.

The plan is for **_Coordinated Love_** to be a series of stand alone chapter(s) exploring the developing courtship of Sherlock and Lilly, along with answering the burning question: What is Sherlock like in love? My goal, once again, is to keep Sherlock in character, while showing how a self proclaimed 'high functioning sociopath' reacts to finding himself in love...and liking it. Admittedly, there will no doubt be a bit more fluff (but no slash) in this story than there was in Coordinates, but I'll do my best to toss in the odd little case from time to time. Enjoy and remember: Reviews are always welcomed greatly. :)

**Coordinated Love – Holmes Style # 1**

_**~ Manners and Advice ~**_

_In which Sherlock recalls his manners and John lends advice._

Dr. John Watson was feeling rather pleased with himself. He had completed the task assigned to him with a minimum of fuss involved. Victoria Burke had been escorted to a local hospital ward to be detained for the Section 2 assessment. Lord Henry and Lady Constance received answers to their numerous questions from the admitting physician, which forced John and Ron to cool their heels in the waiting room, but even that took much less time than expected. Then they were headed back over to Barts to drop the couple at their waiting car, leaving the two men then free to pursue their planned evening's activity.

Way before the time they had originally anticipated they were ensconced in a cozy little pub round the corner from Baker Street, and making inroads into the pub owner's supply of lager. There were even a couple of lovely looking ladies demurely making eyes at them from a booth near the door. Things were definitely looking good from where John was sitting. Ron had excused himself to make use of the pub's facilities and John was considering buying the next round for those lovely ladies, when his mobile pinged to let him know he had a text.

_**Am oddly hungry. Intend to ask Lilly to dine. Lilly staying at Molly's. Must also ask Molly along? – SH_

John smiled to himself. Good. Sherlock was trying to be polite and considerate. For a change. He could understand Sherlock's not wishing for Molly to tag along, but it wouldn't be nice to exclude her. Though he very much doubted that Molly would want to be a gooseberry. Before he could text an answer, his mobile pinged again.

_**Clarification: don't want Molly along, but do want Lilly. – SH_

"Yeah. I got that, you git," John groused to himself, as he composed a short, but to the point, response.

_**Yes - u MUST ask M. M will decline. Trust me. – J_

Sherlock pushed a furry paw aside to lift his mobile and looked down at John's response with mild skepticism. How could John be so confident that Molly would decline? Well, at least he had confirmation that it would be 'good' to ask. Frankly, the recollection of proper etiquette even occurring to him was quite unexpected. Alarming even. Still more remarkable was his evident willingness to concede to the extreme of extending a reluctant dinner invitation to Molly. Should it prove necessary. Which, according to John, it would be.

From amidst his utter collapse across the sofa Sherlock noted that, despite the purring mass of fur which appeared to have claimed possession of his semi reclined torso, he retained a clear view of most of the flat. Glancing over at the two women who, in the process of doing a tour of Molly's flat, were currently exploring the linen cupboard beside the guest bedroom door, Sherlock decided to heed John's advice and hope the man knew what he was about.

The decision finally having been made, suddenly time was of the essence. He couldn't remember the last time he had such a forceful desire to eat. He felt as if he was literally starving. As if in answer to that thought, his stomach put forth an angry grumble impressive enough to disturb Toby into stretching out a sleepy paw while momentarily exposing a slit of tawny colored eye. When nothing further was expressed by his human bed, he closed the eye once more, drawing his paw back to wrap around his nose and settling deeper into his chosen spot.

Sherlock found himself strangely hesitant to disturb the sleeping cat, but his gnawing hunger overrode his fellow feeling for Toby's comfort, so he set about squirming himself upright from under the surprisingly heavy feline. Once displaced, Toby was less than pleased, but his disgruntled "mowreow" performed the service of getting Sherlock the attention he desired from the other humans in the flat.

While fussing at the dratted cat hair that had attached to his suit jacket, he loudly announced, "Lilly. I need to eat. You will be coming to dinner with me."

Turning abruptly to make his way to the door, pulling on his coat as he walked, he added over his shoulder, in what seemed an afterthought, "If deemed necessary, Molly may come also."

Lilly shook her head slightly in response to Sherlock's rather boorish behaviour, and waited patiently for him to notice that she wasn't in a rush to follow him to the door. Once he realised that Lilly wasn't picking up her coat in preparation of leaving, he swung back around and quickly took in Lilly's bemused half smile and noted Molly was glancing between her upset kitty and his own cat hair covered suit jacket with barely concealed amusement. Neither of which Sherlock was finding the least entertaining at the moment. He wanted to be away already, for god's sake.

As his exasperation with what was clearly going to be a delay in leaving crept into his voice, he asked, "Problem?"

Cocking his head to one side, completely dismissing Molly from his thoughts momentarily, Sherlock focused intently on Lilly's face, noting the smile had sharpened just a tad at his question, going from bemused to coolly polite and mildly attentive. He might not understand most things about Lilly, but he had grasped enough to know this was not a good sign. No doubt he had done the incorrect thing. Again. Groaning inwardly, he wondered to himself: 'Oh bloody hell, what now?'

"No problem, Sherlock dear. None at all. Oh, please do enjoy your dinner and the remainder of your evening._ Alone_." Lilly's voice was polite to the point of disinterest and bordered just on the edge of brittle, pausing to apply the full effect of scorn to the last word, almost enjoying the wince it yielded from Sherlock, before finishing up very briskly. "No doubt I will see you when you next have time to fit me in?"

"Lilly…you – I, um…not good?" Sherlock stammered slightly, a flush of redness moving over his normally pale skin to settle on the tips of his ears.

A disconcerted and dismayed Sherlock was an endearingly charming Sherlock, Lilly couldn't help noticing. Still, she couldn't ignore some words of advice regarding relationships she had overheard Bess, her book shop manager, giving one of the younger shop girls once, 'start out as you mean to continue'. Lilly knew that applying this advice to her relationship with Sherlock meant basically that if she didn't lay down some clear expectations at the beginning, there would be no changing his behaviour later.

"Not so much. Would you perhaps care to try again?"

"Yes. Well. I mean to say. Fine!" Sherlock growled finally, growing frustrated with this absurd inability to ask one simple question. Not to mention the need to ask in the first place. Most annoying. Drawing in a deep calming breath, and arranging his face into the most pleasantly interested expression he could manage, he asked politely, "Lilly, would you please do me the honor of dining with me?"

Before she could open her mouth to accept or deny, Sherlock pressed on. "I am starving and if I do not eat something soon, I cannot be held accountable for expiring right here on Molly Hooper's carpet which is clearly less than six months old. An occurrence that I do not believe her landlord would thank you for. Though it would appear Toby has had an encounter with some rotted fish within the last three days, so perhaps it doesn't matter quite so much. Naturally, Molly, you are also invited to join us. However, please do not feel obliged to do so, as clearly your carpet could do with some attention."

Meeting Lilly's gaze directly, Sherlock raised one eloquent eyebrow as if to ask, will that do? Apparently it would have to, as Lilly shook her head again, this time in surrender, and with a silly grin moved to retrieve her coat, while a giggling Molly, with assurances that she "wasn't in the least hungry but thanks for asking", headed to the kitchen cupboard containing the cleaning supplies.

On the way down to the street, Sherlock realised he did not have a destination. Taking out his mobile he sent another text:

_**Molly declined. Angelo's or Speedy's? – SH_

The answer was slow in coming and the cab was idling at the curb when it finally did come, though it was not satisfying in the least.

_**O 4 the luv of grog, S! Not Speedys! Its a café, u twit! Somewhere nice. No offence 2 Angelo, but this is ur 1st date with L… Will ? R & get back to u.- J_

Whatever did John mean? First date with Lilly? This wasn't a date. It was dinner. Wasn't it? Oh, blast it. It was a date. Suddenly Sherlock had the sensation of sweat threatening to break out on the back of his neck.

"Where to Guv?" The cabbie was chewing gum with his mouth hanging open as he regarded Sherlock's indecisiveness in the rear view mirror.

Just then his mobile received another text, but he did not recognise the sender:

_**Take Lilly some place nice or I'll hunt you down – Ron_

This text was followed closely by another one from John:

_**R not real helpful. Sorry. Something French, maybe? - J_

Sherlock was aware of Lilly's gaze taking in both the mobile in his hand and the hesitation in his manner. Clearly, John and Ron had been drinking heavily, so obviously he shouldn't expect much help from that quarter and really it wasn't as if he had time to wait for John to tell him where to go. With both Lilly and the cabbie looking at him expectantly, Sherlock knew the time to make a decision had arrived.

Fortunately at just that moment, he remembered a recent client with a connection to, in the man's own words, 'a romantic and unpretentious' bistro/wine bar in Soho. Geoff Wilkes-Smyth, the client, had given him an open invitation to drop by some evening, claiming they would get him sorted with a meal he wouldn't soon forget. Clearing his throat, Sherlock directed the cabbie to head in the direction of Soho. He then sent a quick text off to Geoff, making sure there would be a table for two available, and was only able to finally relax once he received a reply in the affirmative.

Leaning forward, he gave the cabbie the address, then sat back, only to find that Lilly had slid across the seat and was now sitting quite close to him. John had called this a date. Their first date. Not something that Sherlock had a great deal of experience with, and he was quite sure that he didn't want to make another mistake.

Vaguely recalling some surveillance he had once done on a rugby player involved in a tricky drug smuggling ring whom had spent a great deal of time in cabs with assorted females, Sherlock leant back into the seat and put his arm around Lilly, pulling her closer against his side and pressing a kiss to her temple. This seemed to please her as her response was to reach up and pull his head down for a lingering kiss.

By the time the cab pulled up at the little restaurant, Lilly was looking thoroughly kissed and Sherlock was smiling quite smugly, extremely pleased with himself at having finally gotten something right. Lilly, for her part, couldn't have agreed more.

While Sherlock happily tucked into his Angus beef shepherd's pie and Lilly fed him some of her asparagus with potato gnocchi, sitting together at an intimate, candle lit table for two, several other texts were silently received, but none were noticed, let alone read.


	2. Let's Have Dinner

A/N: This one is in response to a prompt from Guest Who…who wanted to read more about their date.

**Coordinated Love – Holmes Style # 2**

**~ Let's Have Dinner ~**

_In which Sherlock and Lilly have dinner and by dinner I mean…they actually eat dinner._

The cab pulled up at the restaurant, but the couple didn't get out right away, causing the cabbie to take a gander into the rear mirror to see what the holdup was. He grinned at the sight. Looked to be they was somewat taken up with each other and dinna notice they'd arrived to the destination. Aye, what he'd no give to be young again, he thought. Mind, he hated to put a damper on things, but seeing as the windows were getting a mite fogged back there, he figured it best to try a little throat clearin' to get 'em to come up for some air. Once they did, the tall bloke, seeming a tad bothered bout bein' caught out for a wee bit o' snogging with his bird in the rear seat, tossed him too much for the fare, and was out the door in a chivvy, dragging that little totty behind him by the hand. The bloke dinna stop even after he says to 'im it be too much dosh, just shook his head, waving 'is hand bout impatient like, and grunting somethin', the meaning of which seemed to be 'keep it'. The cabbie watched them go in the restaurant before pulling away from the curb, shaking his head and musing that the bloke dinna 'ave no need to get all miffed. A nice bit o' tongue-wrestling was nowt to some other doings folks got up to there in the back o' his cab.

Sherlock kept his hand on Lilly's lower back, guiding her into the restaurant, still internally chiding himself for getting distracted again. He really needed to find the solution to this new need to split his focusing capabilities. He was quite confident of his ability to do so. As with most of his other well-developed skills, it was just a matter of figuring out how, once he put his entire mind to it. Which he would be able to do once he finished with this_ date_ - Sherlock tried to suppress the mild shudder that passed through him at the word – when Lilly was safely back at Molly's and he was back at Baker Street. It really was a bit difficult to focus on a solution now, what with the fact that he was literally starving to death, not to mention the constant stimuli of Lilly's presence surrounding him and currently having an effect on all his senses. But quite lovely stimuli it was, he couldn't help thinking, as he glanced down to see her grinning mischievously up at him. He sensed that she was amused by something he had done again, though he wasn't exactly sure what it could be. Nothing out of the ordinary had transpired, other than their exiting the cab and entering the restaurant.

Thinking perhaps he may have stepped into some rubbish or possibly the buttons of his coat were misaligned, highly unlikely though it would be for either of those scenarios, he performed a swift perusal of his person, but this revealed nothing seemed to be out of order. He frowned slightly, while absent-mindedly ruffling his unruly curls a few times with his free hand, as he gave it a moment's further thought. But no. Nothing came to mind. In the end, he determined there wasn't anything that Lilly should be finding remotely amusing about his appearance. He quirked an inquiring eyebrow down at her. She responded by reaching up to run her fingertip lightly along his lower lip, the sensation of which Sherlock admittedly found on the whole to be rather more than agreeable.

Or at least agreeable until she removed her finger from his lips and held it up for him to observe how the pad now possessed a faintly shiny smear on the tip of it. He captured her finger with a few of his own and lifted it to his nose, which detected at once the subtle scent of artificial strawberry. A fruit scented substance. How had he come to have it on his lips?

It took his brain all of two and a half seconds to process the answer: Leaving Molly's flat. Hungry. Wanting to go. Having to wait for Lilly. Stopped at mirror. Why? Lilly looked perfectly fine. Fluffing her hair. Applying something glossy from a tube to her lips. Wanting to kiss them. But impatient to get going. The cab ride. Ah. Yes. Of course.

He sniffed the end of Lilly's fingertip once more to complete his analysis. Based on his recall of the shape and distinctive font on the tube, unless he was completely mistaken, chances were better than 85% that the brand of the lip gloss was _Natio Ultra_, with the actual scent being the one called _Strawberry Sundae_. Sherlock made a mental reminder to have little a peek into her handbag later to see if he was correct. Which undoubtedly would be the case.

So. Apparently, during the cab ride and the subsequent activity with which they had been absorbed in to the point of distraction, some of that gloss had been transferred from her lips to his. Ah. Well. Perfectly logical outcome, he supposed.

Turning his attention back to Lilly, he pulled a fake disgusted face, just to make her laugh, which she did as she pulled a tissue out her handbag and handed it to him. He had just enough time to wipe the offending substance off his lips, and shove the now _Strawberry Sundae_ scented tissue into his coat pocket, before a waiter was standing in front of them looking expectant.

"Table for two, sir?"

Sherlock started to reply in the affirmative, when suddenly they were approached by his former client, and owner of this restaurant, Geoff Wilkes-Smythe. "It's alright, Brian. These are the special guests I have been watching out for. I'll take it from here."

Brian nodded and headed off to check on his tables, while Geoff reached out to shake Sherlock's hand warmly and waited to be introduced to the lovely young lady at his side. The sight of Sherlock with the young woman, who was so obviously his date, had surprised Geoff for a moment, as he had been under the impression that Sherlock and his doctor friend were together. They had certainly acted like an old married couple. Apparently not, he thought. Geoff took another moment to readjust his mistaken impression of the detective, though he was pleased to see that Sherlock and his lady friend made an equally attractive couple.

"Sherlock! I'm so glad that you decided to stop by after all. I've been planning your menu since you texted. We are going to have a treat for you and your friend this evening."

"Hello, Geoff. Thank you for fitting us in on such short notice."

Sherlock managed to remember his manners, in spite of the fact that the pleasing odors emanating from the kitchen were extremely distracting. He stopped inhaling them long enough to note the way that Geoff was staring with great interest at Lilly, who had unconsciously threaded her hand through Sherlock's arm while he had been greeting their host. Ah. Yes. Pleasantries. There did seem to be a lot of those when Lilly was around. Was he going to be forced to perform theses banalities of human existence indefinitely? He pulled his annoyance under control and forced a polite smile to his face as he introduced them. Recalling Lilly's tendency to have her social position obscured and knowing how Geoff would likely to react to having _Lady Lillian Fairfax _in his restaurant, Sherlock decided to keep it casual.

"This is Lilly. Lilly, Geoff." Sherlock's voice was brisk during the introduction, then lowering it, he continued in a mildly amused aside to Lilly, "I was able to be of some small assistance to him a few months back in determining the identity of an intruder."

Geoff nodded a welcome to Lilly and gestured for the two of them to follow him as he threaded his way through the crowded tables toward the collection of small rounded high back booths lining the rear wall. "Anything for you, Sherlock. If it wasn't for you, we would never have figured out what was behind all those strange goings on."

"Yes. Well. Undoubtedly time would have made it all clear in the end without my help." Sherlock responded with a surprising modesty in his voice, then added, after clearing his throat as if to dismiss the entire topic, "It was really nothing."

"Nothing! Oh this man. So modest. Has he ever told you the story? No?" Geoff continued speaking as he led the couple to a cozy intimate booth in a very nice dim corner. He was a big believer in setting a mood, and the mood needed for Sherlock and his lady friend was as romantic and undisturbed as possible. He recognized well kissed lips when he saw them. Gesturing grandly toward the table with sweep of his hand, he winked at Lilly as he watched her slide into the booth, then leant in, adding in a stage whisper that Sherlock couldn't help but hear, "Well, Lilly my dear, you make sure that he tells it to you tonight. It's tale of mystery and suspense with a cracking good ending."

Once the couple was seated, their faces lit from the low candle burning on the table, Geoff began to solidify the menu choices he had in mind for Sherlock and Lilly. Sherlock's was easy. Geoff had a feeling that the man was hungry and frankly, it was clear that he didn't eat enough normally, so hearty and filling came immediately to mind. For Lilly, his mind turned to pondering on dishes a bit lush and creamy, but also refreshing.

"So, I think for the starter, we will begin with a different soup for each of you. For you Sherlock, I would recommend the Spiced Saffron and Mussel, as the spicy mussel mix is full of warming flavours and interesting textures, paired with a glass of Alsace Gewurztraminer which makes quite an exotic match for the soup." He paused in thought, going over the options available in his mind, and then turning to Lilly with a satisfied smile, continued, "And for the lovely Lilly, I would recommend the Roasted Parsnip and Parmesan which is a deliciously sweet and creamy soup, nicely paired with a glass of off-dry white Riesling. I will also send out a plate of our very popular baked feta filo fingers. Will that suit?"

"Very nicely, thank you, Geoff."

Sherlock quickly stated his approval of both the soup choices and the wine selection. But he needn't have bothered, as Geoff hadn't really been asking, having already made up his mind with regard to the starters.

A moment passed while Geoff stared up blankly at an abstract painting hanging from the wall over the booth, contemplating the choices for the main course, while Sherlock leant forward over the table, looking as if he would really like to move this process along a bit faster, and Lilly relaxed back against the red leather of the booth, much entertained by the whole interaction between the two men. Finally, Geoff shook his head as if to clear it, folded his arms across his broad chest and with one finger taping his lips, he briskly pronounced the dinner selections he had decided on for his two guests.

"Ah, for the main course then, I am thinking our nice hearty Angus Beef Shepherd's Pie for you, Sherlock. Yes, I know it's actually a cottage pie, but my partner preferred the sound of _shepherd's pie_ for some reason, so there you have it. Picture a swirl of creamy browned mash atop ground Angus beef braised in a full-bodied red Cabernet Sauvignon, along with carrots and onions. It is garnished with caramelised onions, garlic, and cheddar, then baked in a cast iron pan and served with greens. The accompanying wine is naturally the same Cabernet Sauvignon used in the braising of the beef. And for Lilly, I am thinking one of our specialties, the Asparagus with Potato Gnocchi, which is in a gloriously creamy gorgonzola sauce. Oh, it's perfectly lovely, Lilly. You will adore it! Our gnocchi are like scrumptious little pillows. And the asparagus is fabulously tender. The accompanying wine will be a grassy Sauvignon Blanc, I should think."

Much to Sherlock's relief, as soon as the restaurateur had finished reciting his choices, he decisively turned away from the table, and without further comment, purposefully went to place the order with the kitchen. No doubt food would soon follow. That thought allowed Sherlock to take his mind off his hunger and to turn it to his dining partner. Whom he had noticed, now that they were alone for the most part, as the sides of the booth were actually quite high, was shyly fiddling with her water glass. His relief faded again and the nagging word _date_ popped up in his head to torment him once more.

Truly all of this was John's fault. Everything would have been fine if John hadn't made it complicated by calling it a _date_. Sherlock categorically did not_ do_ dates. He had never, at least before this, even considered wasting time on such nonsense. As he had told John at Angelo's months ago, girlfriends were not his area. Of course, that comment had led to John asking about boyfriends, which led Sherlock to the worrying notion that he had somehow completely miss read John's sexual orientation and instead of just a new flatmate and potential friend, he might to have to deal with the man's possible attraction to him. God knew he'd had enough of that silliness from Molly at Barts, and he certainly hadn't wanted to have to deal with it at home also. In the end, it had been a profound relief to find that John wasn't gay after all.

While Sherlock was off in his own thoughts, Lilly was also. She was taking herself to task for allowing the passing thought that had entered her mind after Geoff had left them alone again - that this was like a date - to make her unsure what to do next. This was Sherlock. They were merely having dinner. But then the thought that he had asked her out to dine with him kind of made it a date. And though they had come to some sort of an arrangement back at Barts, she still wasn't sure exactly what they were. A couple, obviously. Much as Sherlock detested that word. That thought made her smile just a bit, thinking of him waving his hand all round and making those ridiculous faces. She had looked up at him only to see his eyes unfocused, face blank and staring into the candle. Ah. Gone again. Then suddenly a small smile came to his lips as if with a pleasant thought and she spoke before she could stop herself.

"Away again, I take it." Lilly's amusement in Sherlock's occasional tendency to go off in his mind helped her to get over her sudden bout of shyness. "What are _you_ smiling about?"

Lilly's question broke into his thoughts, causing him to glance up at her sharply, the smile he hadn't been aware of fading quickly from his face. He'd been away again and clearly time had passed while he had been. He quickly took in the amount of wick remaining on the candle and determined it had been less than two minutes, provided there hadn't been an unexpected draft during that time.

Sherlock looked up from the candle and met her smiling green eyes. What he saw there allowed him to relax back against the booth, with the amused smile returning to his face. "I was just thinking of John."

"John?"

"Yes. And how relieved I was that he wasn't sexually attracted to me." A wicked twinkle appeared in Sherlock's eyes suddenly. "You have no idea how bothersome that can get."

"Oh? Was there a question of that?" Lilly asked playfully, but the question was not answered as they were interrupted by the arrival of the starters, and the whole of Sherlock's attention became riveted on the food being placed before him.

The soup and feta fingers had been delivered to their table by a very small, thin, verging on tiny, young woman with wispy blond hair. After arranging the bowls and several small plates in front of each of them, she then stood waiting impatiently by the side of the table and staring from under her fringe at Sherlock with what could only have been eager delight. From the moment the bowl was set in front of Sherlock, eating was the only thing on his mind and so he took no notice of the waitress. Lilly had smilingly thanked her as she was laying out the dishes in front of them, but when the girl showed no sign of leaving, she began to wonder what she was waiting for. The young woman was positively vibrating energy. And it was all directed at the oblivious man seated across the table.

Sherlock was so engrossed with selecting a slice of the crusty bread from the plate to the left side his soup bowl and preparing to dig into the divinely aromatic soup placed in front of him, that it took him rather a bit to realise that the annoying sensation coming from his leg was the result of his dinner companion tapping her foot against it with increasing rapidity. He tore his attention from the bread to spare a quick questioning glance over at Lilly, who inclined her head in the direction of the person still standing for unknown reasons by their table. He looked over at the girl, obviously irritated at her continued presence, which was interrupting his quest for food. But once he met her gaze, a true smile, one that warmed even his eyes, came to his face. He put his soup spoon down to greet her properly, and with a voice full of such sincere affection, causing Lilly to feel a bit jealous suddenly.

"Ah. Emily. I see your situation has improved much for the better since last we met." When Emily quirked an eyebrow and gave him a knowingly look, he elaborated. "Hair. Trimmed by someone who knew what they were doing. Clothes. New and not inexpensive. Posture. Confident and open. In addition, this is not the first time you have laid a table for customers. Your placement of the accompaniments clearly bears that out. So. He took my suggestion then. Good. And school?"

"Yeah, he did. Been living upstairs too. Took a bit to get it livable, but you know I'm not fussy and G's been really great about getting the repairs done. Start at the culinary school next month." The girl had a surprisingly deep voice for such a small person, though the delivery of the words was lazy to the point of languid. She then jerked her head to indicate Lilly, without actually looking in her direction. The girl's eyes were still only for Sherlock, as she asked in a voice that could only be termed impertinent, "Who's this then? Where's Dr. John? When G said that you were coming by to eat, I figured that he'd be with you. He's always with you."

"John had other plans for the evening. This is my friend, Lilly. Much like you, she also was a case. Our latest case actually. "

"Really. Can't say she looks like much of a case." Emily's voice was bored sounding as she finally bothered to glance in Lilly's direction. She flashed a cheeky grin at Sherlock as she turned back to face him, dismissing Lilly once again from her attention. "Yeah. Well, I'll leave you to it then. G said I wasn't to keep you too long from your nosh-up and Table 5 is waiting on their bill. See you later, Detective Man?"

"You will if you plan to continue bringing us food. If you don't, then probably not. I've not plans to hang about this time waiting for you to come out and play, Emily." Sherlock shook a finger at the girl in a playful scolding until she shrugged her shoulders and abruptly turned to walk away from the table. With the deep sigh of satisfaction, he finally picked up his soup spoon and began to eat.

Lilly watched him for a moment, deciding whether or not to ask what that had been all about. She ultimately came to the conclusion that if he wanted to explain he would, and so selected a feta finger to give her something to do with her hands while she tried to calm the exasperation caused by Emily's rude dismissiveness of her. A nice healthy swallow of her 'off-dry white Riesling' went a long way toward helping her to also overcome the completely unreasonable crossness she was feeling in response to Sherlock's obvious fondness for the girl. Well, most of it anyway. Finally, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she completed her quest for calm. Once relaxed again, Lilly started on her own soup which was as sweet and creamy as promised and quite lovely after all.

Throughout all of this, Sherlock had been making steady head way through his soup, along with the crusty bread and the majority of the feta fingers. The phrase 'man on a mission' came to Lilly, while she watched him, very pleased to see him eating so. At last, Sherlock pushed the empty bowl to the side and the last of the feta fingers disappeared between his lips, to be followed by the remainder of his Alsace Gewurztraminer. As he put the wine glass back down on the table, he grinned suddenly at Lilly, looking immensely pleased with himself.

"You didn't care much for Emily." It wasn't a question. Just a bald statement of fact. And the last thing Lilly wished to talk about now that she had finally managed to release the tension the girl had caused in her. When Lilly didn't respond, other than to keep a steady gaze on his face, he leant forward and took her hand in his. "Your body language gave you away. When you began tapping my leg to get me to notice Emily, your smile and the fact that your head was tilted sideways toward Emily indicated you were slightly amused by her presence and mildly interested in what she wanted. As Emily and I conversed, your attitude toward her altered. There was a specific change in the crossing of your legs. You shifted to cross your leg to point away from Emily as you began to perceive a threat from her continued presence. Then there was the slight shake of your head, a very small movement, I don't believe you were even aware of doing it, signaling your building frustration. At this point your smile had turned tight-lipped and you began to adjust the right cuff of your blouse with your left hand, both of which are barrier protective signals and also indicate rejection. Finally, just before Emily left us, you had moved your left hand up across your body to clasp the upper part of your right arm, also a barrier protective signal and a form of self-hugging. In essence, you were by this point feeling insecure and attempting to reassure yourself due to unhappy feelings. Ergo: You didn't care much for Emily and more to the point, the attention I gave her."

Lilly felt a flush of embarrassment moving up her cheeks as Sherlock released her hand and leant back against the leather booth, finished with his discourse regarding her recent behaviour. Behaviour she wasn't exactly proud of to be truthful. Not to mention, it was a bit disconcerting to have one's inner self just exposed like that. Quite frankly, she didn't know if she should be impressed or angry, though in all honesty, she was leaning toward impressed. Fortunately, it was her turn to be saved from having to respond by the arrival of the entrée, thankfully delivered by a different waiter. She was reasonably certain she didn't need a repeat performance of the Sherlock and Emily show.

_Dinner To Be Continued…(I promise.)_

* * *

A/N: Apologies for the extremely long wait for this chapter. I was suffering from the writing blahs for some completely unclear reason. There I was, stuck at 3,300+ words, not liking _any_ of them, and starting to panic. So I had to walk away from it for a bit, until I could find my way back. Which I did today and now with nearly 1,000 additional words, I can honestly say I'm liking them _all_ rather well. I hope you do also.

On a side note: I had actually already written CL-HS #2 which was going to be about the boys the next morning at Baker Street and titled _**Cure for a Hangover**_, but I wasn't sure about it because it really wasn't about Sherlock and Lilly. So I reworked it, taking Ron Somers out, putting Mike Stamford in, along with leaving Sherlock suffering from a longing for toast instead of Lilly, and posted it as a stand-alone one-shot of the same name. If you have any sympathy for John at all, go read it and have a giggle. – Laters, RS xx


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